Cheater Cheater
by waywarddemons
Summary: Y/N's been seeing Dean off and on for forever now. He comes into town and with open arms you let him in. But this visit ends differently when Dean leaves his phone behind and you can't help but be a little nosey.
1. Cheater Cheater

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

You heard the soft beating on the door and your heart started to race. There was only one person who knocked like that. Only one person who had the strength to make the knock echo throughout the whole house. And even though it had been so long since you'd heard it, so long since you'd seen him, your heart racing was the only reasonable reaction.

Especially when Dean Winchester was on the other side of the door. Dean Freakin' Winchester.

You opened the door quickly, and before you could even confirm that it was Dean, you threw yourself into his arms and let him catch you. Dean laughed, that deep laugh he always did when you greeted him like this and held you tighter.

"I wasn't expecting you to be home. Don't you normally work on Tuesdays?" Dean asked, finally prying himself away enough to see your face. He smiled down at you, fixing your hair while still holding you close.

You buried your face in his chest, letting Dean invade all of your senses now. "I do. But I took the day off today because I wasn't feeling well."

"You seem to be feeling fine." You heard his voice through his chest and finally looked up at him. He could see it now. The little redness to your nose that told him you had been blowing it a lot. "Ah, I see. Well I didn't mean to barge in on your day off. I just thought I'd stop by since I was in the neighborhood."

"No please! Come on in!" You moved quickly, letting Dean enter your home. He shut the door behind him and followed you to your kitchen.

He looked around, as if he hadn't been here many times before. "I love this place. Always feels so welcome and homey." He said, running his hand along your bar.

You laughed, popping up from the fridge with two beers in hand. "You say that every time you come here." You handed Dean his beer, and he took it without hesitation.

Dean sat down on a bar stool, his elbows resting on the counter as he looked up at you with those green eyes that just melted you. He hadn't changed a bit since the last time you saw him. Same hard and beautiful eyes, same puffy lips that screamed for an invitation. He looked more at ease right now than the last time you had seen him, his shoulders more relaxed but still tense, as if he was ready for something to happen in this very instant.

"I mean it every time. I wish I could spend more time here." His words melted your heart. He smiled, picking at the label suddenly embarrassed by what he had said. It wasn't a lie, he only lied to you about his life, he had to protect you from that. It was the least he owed you. You were so pure, so innocent. He couldn't imagine the face you would make when he told you what he really did. He couldn't imagine how you would react if he had to. He was thankful that so far, nothing had happened to you.

Dean never stayed for more than a night. He'd often tried to stay for a day or two, but to no avail. "Why don't you?" You asked, your voice low. You'd wanted him to stay longer. Long enough to get one of those long conversations in like you used to.

"You know I work a lot." Dean admitted. Picking at the label on his beer. It wasn't a lie, he worked a lot. Case after case, road trip after road trip. He'd leave Sam all alone in that hotel room waiting for his return. Sam never asked, Dean sort of just hoped that at this point Sam just knew where he was. But Dean could never be too sure about that. Since he never brought it up and wasn't about to any time soon.

You were his little secret. His little get away from his reality. And you didn't mind at all. The mystery of Dean was what drew you to him in the first place. How could you complain? A tall handsome man shows up at your doorstep and the rest is well, bliss.

"Well we should make the best of the time we have. What would you like for dinner?" You asked, leaning down on the counter. Dean couldn't help but look at your chest, your low cut top revealing just what he wanted to see. You did this on purpose, you knew what it would do and you didn't mind at all.

Dean licked his lips. "Anything you make will be better than what I've been having."

You laughed. "Okay. Hungry now? Or hungry later?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

It didn't take long for you and Dean to find yourselves in your room. Clothes falling around you as you both struggled to clear the boundaries between you. This, even though you hated admitting it, was another reason you couldn't say no to Dean.

The heat of his skin against yours. The way his full lips pressed into yours and made your knees grow weak. His hands roaming your body, as if he forgot and needed to remember all over again. Every part of Dean drove you crazy, every part of him made you want more.

He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. You giggled, suddenly scared of your new found height. This didn't stop Dean though, no this encouraged him. Your laughing, it drove him crazy. He never understood it. If anyone else were to laugh in this instance, or any other that were about to take place, he wouldn't like it. But you, your little giggle, the way your chest bounced, and your face grew red, it made him crave more.

Dean's lips found your neck, placing small and warm kisses against it as he walked forward. Dean didn't forget this room. He knew, 5 steps forward and there would be your bed. The bed covered in pillows that he hated throwing on the floor. 4 steps to the right and there would be your dresser, a picture of you as a child laughing with your now dead mother would be watching him the whole time. God he hated that picture.

He lowered you on the bed, your back firmly pressing into your blankets. He never left you. His warm body pressing harder into yours. You could feel every muscle as he moved. Dean trailed kisses all over you, memorizing your skin for what seemed like the millionth time. And yet every time he did it you loved it more.

It was bliss, wonderful and amazing bliss. And you couldn't ask for more.

Dean slept at your side, soft little snores coming from his barely open mouth. You watched as his chest rose and fell a few times. Counting his heart beat as he lay there. This was your favorite version of Dean. Not because he was sleeping, but because he seemed so open, so calm, so at ease. It was refreshing compared to his hard exterior, his act of being the tough guy all the time.

It didn't take long for his phone to start buzzing, as it always did after he was here for so long. But he hadn't heard it, he slept right through it. You rolled out of bed carefully and slowly. Grabbing at the first article of clothing you could find and slipping into it. You welcomed the scent of Dean as you lifted his shirt over your head.

You left the room as quietly as you could. Making your way down to the kitchen where you started to cook dinner.

Dean woke up alone, a blanket barely covering his naked body. He'd almost forgotten where he was, until he turned to his side and saw the picture of you as a kid. He couldn't help but lay it down, it gave him the creeps. Mainly because he remembered that time, he may have been a kid also, but he never forgot the first time he met you. John couldn't keep you two apart, you were like little love sick puppies even back then.

He sighed, getting out of the bed, and slipping into his jeans. He smiled, knowing that you were wearing his shirt, wherever you were. He searched for you, not that it took him too long; he could smell the wonder that was a home cooked meal the second he made his way into the hall way.

Dean watched you from the doorway, a smile on his lips as you walked around without knowing he was there. He could get used to this, used to real meals, used to you in the kitchen, used to you everywhere only wearing his shirt. He felt a twinge of pain, since he knew it never could happen. For so many reasons, so many things keeping him from this life.

He cleared his throat, and as you turned around, your face grew a shade of red that he had never seen before. "Oh, Y/N, I didn't mean to scare you." He raised his hands as he took a few steps towards you.

You tried to look away, but Dean was nearing you, his chest fully exposed for you to look at, and you did. "I just thought you'd still be sleeping." You said, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a squeeze.

"Whatever you are making it smells awesome." Dean peaked over your head at your cooking, anxious to see what it was he was going to eat. As if on cue, his stomach grumbled.

You laughed, and that familiar warmth deep inside Dean woke up again, "It's almost ready. Take a seat."

Dean did as he was told, taking a seat at the counter so he could watch. Dean felt the familiar pain again, the one to remind him not to get too comfortable. The one that let him know this was to "normal" for him. And yet he felt at ease here, he couldn't help but want this for himself. Even if it could never happen.

"Here ya go!" You said, placing a plate of food in front of Dean. Dean's mouth watered, his eyes widened, and once more his stomach grumbled. "Don't wait, dig in." You turned around, making your own plate before joining him.

Saying goodbye to Dean was always the hardest. You both would stand at the door, not ready for Dean to walk out just yet. He'd kiss you, not like he had earlier, no. This kiss was tender, full of something other than lust. But you didn't know that.

Dean didn't like this part either. He liked the comfort of your home. Liked the way he felt in here, liked the way he seemed to fit in with ease. So he held on to you for as long as he could. Holding you close, kissing you gently. Because he knew he could break you. He knew that one day he wouldn't just "be in the neighborhood." He lived a dangerous life, one where he never knew if it was his last day. So when he was with you he tried to savor the moments, tried to remember everything because he never knew when he'd get to do this again.

It'd become like a little dance now. One you both knew every move to. You'd walk to the door, fingers interlocked with one another. He'd pull you close, his fingers leaving your hand and finding themselves tangled in your hair. He'd hold you there, but it never seemed like long enough, you never got enough of him no matter how long he was here.

"I have to go now." He'd say, but he'd kiss you once more. Lips needing one last taste of you. "I mean it." He'd add, but he'd squeeze you tighter in his arms. "Okay last kiss, and then I really have to go." So, he'd kiss you, long and slow. He'd memorize your lips, your taste and the way your body melted into him.

And then he'd leave. Just like that. Out the door he would go, and all you'd have is the low rumble of his car as it drove down the street.

Dean had left in such a rush that he hadn't noticed he left his phone, but there it sat in all its glory next to his empty plate of food. He'd practically licked the plate clean and set it back down. Because afterward he all but ran out of the place, asking you for his shirt and meeting you at the door.

You'd never felt the need to go through Dean's things. Dean led his life the way he wanted, and you didn't question it ever. So when you were scrolling through his contacts, hoping to find someone that you could call to return Dean's phone to him, it hurt to see some of them.

So many girls names, so many vague things like 'girl from the bar' or 'girl with the long brown hair.'

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable. And yet your hands kept searching the device. You found your way to his texts, to his calls, to anything and everything and only stopped when you had seen all you could. It wasn't once, it wasn't a one and done. No. Dean Winchester was cheating, had been cheating, and was on his way to someone else right now.

You ached, you felt sick. Suddenly everything was slowed. You fell to the floor, his phone still locked in your hand. You didn't know what to do. Didn't know what to think. All you knew was the last text message, sent only a few moments ago, was to another girl, a 'met at the bar last night' and that Dean had told her once he could get away, he'd be on his way to see her; with a winky face.

You didn't expect Dean to be a saint, you knew who he was after all. But this hurt. More than you wanted it too. You loved Dean, you knew it was crazy. This man, who only came around every so often, he drove you crazy. There wasn't any other way to describe it.

You could put this behind you, even if it felt like it was breaking you, slowly making you crumble from the inside. Dean had to have an explanation, something that would or could put your mind at ease. This wasn't your Dean, your Dean talked about staying, about how happy his life would be with you. Your Dean wouldn't ever do this. Your Dean was a kid again, carving his name into a tree with yours. Your Dean was promises that he would always come around when you needed him, even if you thought you didn't.


	2. Hello Stranger

Loud music blared from the speakers around you, you held your fruity drink in your hand and let your hips shake to the beat. Your best friend, the one who convinced you to come out here in the first place, danced next to you. This is what you needed. A night out on the town with your friends. A night of drinking and fun.

She didn't even have to drag you out like she normally did. No. you came out, dressed in your tightest dress that showed off everything it needed too, and you were ready to party the night away. You hadn't forgotten about Dean. Hell nothing could make that happen. But for tonight? He wasn't on your mind.

Until you saw him, standing at the bar with a drink in his hand. He leaned against it so casually, like he owned the place. Your heart warmed, he was here, and now you could be out with him. Not just in your home with him. He could meet your friends; they had a hard time believing he was real anyway, but now, now he could be real.

His face suddenly disappeared, buried in some blond's neck. His lips moving like it had on yours just days before. Your blood boiled. Everything seemed to stop. You no longer could hear the music. All you could see was Dean, Dean with his face pressing into some stranger. Not you.

"Y/N?" Y/F asked, worry on her face as she noticed you suddenly standing with a blank stare. "What's going on?" She followed your eyes, seeing some guy as he was and she knew. This was Dean, it had to be. No one else would make you react this way. No one else would have your mouth this slack and yet anger burning in your eyes.

"Oh honey, let's go." She tried to lead you away, gripping your arm and trying to pull you. "Y/N, you don't need to watch that." She yelled over the loud music, trying desperately to keep you from him. All she needed to do was distract you long enough to get you away, so you couldn't see him like this.

"I know. I shouldn't." You finally took your eyes off him, looking at Y/F. She smiled at you, but not the warm smile she usually wore. This one was a sad smile, because she knew you were in pain. "I'm okay. I promise." You lied, and you knew she didn't believe it. How could she? She was your best friend. She'd been there since the beginning. She'd been there longer than Dean.

But you tried, tried so hard to ignore the burning need to go and figure out what was going on. Instead, you danced, you drank, and you tried to forget what you had seen. Y/F helped, going to the bar for you, trying so very hard to distract you.

For the most part you did okay. Keeping your back to the place you had last saw him. Focusing on some stranger that was dancing with you. A few more friends had shown up, oblivious to what was going on, and they helped as well, even if they didn't know it.

It wasn't long, after a few drinks of liquid courage, that you found your way to the bar yourself. You made your way to Dean, eyes focused solely on him. You had one mission, and it wasn't a bad one. All you wanted to do was to return his phone to him. I'd been going off since he left, and you were growing annoyed.

You didn't plan on saying anything, it was a simple move. Hand Dean his phone, and walk away. You were in public after all. There was no need for a fight. You didn't have it in you anyway. Fighting wasn't you. But this was it. Your moment of truth.

You didn't say anything, Dean saw you before you got to close and closed the gap between the two of you. He placed a hand on your shoulder. It felt different, felt cold and unwelcomed, not like before. Everything seemed wrong. You wanted to blame it on the music, on the place, but you couldn't. you knew better. It wasn't the clubs fault his touch no longer warmed you.

Dean felt the difference too. He could tell something was very wrong with you and it pained him. He couldn't tell what it was but he knew, he was at fault. Just the way you flinched from his touch, the way your skin seemed so could despite him knowing it was warm. You'd never flinched before. You'd never been so scared of Dean.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" He asked, and every fiber of your being wanted to reply. "Y/N?" He asked again, bending down so he could be at eye level with you. His green eyes, the ones that on any other occasion would have your knees growing weak, bore into you. And all you could feel was pain.

You held out the phone, pressing it into his stomach, your lips in a tight line.

Dean didn't say anything, he took the phone from you slowly, looking at it as if he was confused at your offering. "You've had this? This whole time?" His face flushed, he was caught, and he knew it. He wasn't sure how to play this out, wasn't sure what to say or do right now.

He'd tried so hard to shelter you from everything. From his life, from his work. And now, now you had seen it all. It was no doubt, that's why you flinched, that's why you were suddenly so scared of him. Because you knew his secret, you knew the real Dean Winchester. It was the only answer.

"You didn't- you didn't answer it did you?" Dean asked, suddenly so very worried about his secret being out.

You sighed, "No, but that didn't stop it from going off." You'd broken the dam, opened it up and now your mouth couldn't stop. "How was your night last night? Did you end up meeting 'girl with the glasses?'" You asked, arms crossed over your chest.

You weren't sure where this confidence came from. It wasn't like you. None of this seemed normal to you. And yet here you were in the middle of a club, fighting with your boyfriend because he cheated.

Dean didn't know what to say, didn't know how to react. This wasn't what he thought you were mad about, this wasn't what he thought he was going to have to defend. He had no idea that you still didn't know his true profession.

Dean laughed, and it sent you over the edge. You opened your mouth to yell, even though you had already been doing that thanks to the club, but Y/F stopped you. Her hand once more on your arm as she pulled you away.

She pointed a stern finger at Dean as you both walked away, and Dean raised his hands in defense. You wanted that power right now. Wanted to be able to shut Dean up with a look and a finger.

This time it wasn't hard to leave Dean. This time it was easy to see Dean grow smaller as you walked away. This time as you saw a different hurt in his eyes it warmed you instead of made you feel sad. This time as the doors shut and you could no longer see him it didn't hurt. Instead it felt like a weight was lifted off of you. Like you were free.

"Are you alright?" She asked, appearing in front of you. "Y/N?" She waved a hand in front of you, bringing your attention to her.

Your eyes focused, no longer waiting for the door to open and Dean to come bursting through. You shook off your thoughts, "Yes, I'm better now." You smiled, because you were. You weren't sure why, but you weren't angry at Dean, you weren't angry at yourself. It suddenly felt as if nothing mattered when it came to Dean.

"Good. I was worried about you. Let's go home." She offered. She opened her purse, searching for her phone to call a cab. She may have been the bad influence as far as friends went, but she was responsible in her evil ways.

You shook your head. "No, I'm not ready to go home." Your words were clear, they came out so easy, so collected. Almost as if nothing that had just happened.

"Are you sure?" She was hesitant, looking back at the door as if Dean was going to come out at any moment to continue this fight. She actually hoped he would. Because him staying, him not coming out to defend himself, that was almost worse than a full blown fight right here right now. "I mean, you want to go back in there, even if he's in there?"

"Dean isn't a problem, I gave him his phone. I'm done." It was the truth, it wasn't a lie. You couldn't explain it but Dean no longer seemed to have an effect on you. "I promise, look at me. Do I look like a mess? I don't want to fight. I just want to have a good time. Please?" You practically begged; tugging Y/F in the direction of the club.

The music was faint, but still audible. The walls seeming to shake from the bass. Your ears were already ringing, not used to the quiet that was outside. You didn't even understand why you wanted to go in there. You weren't this club girl. That was Y/F. But right now, loud music, strong drinks, and people you didn't know surrounding you seemed right.

"Okay fine. But if I notice anything happening I get to pull the best friend card and pull you out with no complaints." She pointed a stern finger at you and you agreed. Not that you thought there was anything to worry about because you kept telling yourself there wasn't.

You turned quickly, practically bouncing your way back inside. You opened the door and instantly felt the beat of the music through your body. You welcomed it as you jumped inside. Finding your friends exactly where you left them and joining the party like nothing had happened.

"I have to pee!" You yelled at Y/F. She nodded, helping you break away from your small little crowd. You hadn't realized how much you had to drink until now, until you were trying to walk. Suddenly the ground seemed to be moving too fast for you to handle, and your hands were grabbing at every person you could to help you stand up straight.

That was when your face was met with chest. You gulped. Your first reaction was that it was Dean. But as you opened your eyes and looked up you were relieved to see it wasn't Dean. It was someone new. Someone handsome. Someone you had never seen before.

"I am so sorry." He said, hands wrapping themselves around your shoulders. He pushed you gently off the dance floor and to a wall. "I didn't see you." He yelled.

"Its alright." You said, eyes captivated by his broad shoulders. He towered over you, in a way that made you feel so tiny as you stood this close to him.

"Hi, my names Y/F. This is Y/N." Y/F said, sticking her arm between you two.

It took you both a moment to realize she was there. To pry your eyes off of one another long enough to notice the hand between you. "Sam." He said, taking his large hand and shaking hers. "I really am sorry. Let me buy you a drink."

You didn't say no. How could you? Sam had to be the second. No. He was the most gorgeous man you had laid eyes on. And at this moment, you would do anything he said. Your friend and you followed him to the bar, careful to not look around too much in case you found Dean.

Sam didn't hesitate to buy your friend and you a drink. A smile, a warm and friendly smile, on his lips as he handed you both a few shots. He'd said something, probably something witty or funny, before clinking glasses with you and downing his shot. But you couldn't hear him. He was too far away to be heard over the music.

Eventually Y/F got the hint and left, leaving you and Sam alone. He walked you outside, letting the fresh air hit your warmed skin was a relief. He sat with you at a table, smokers surrounding you as you both took a moment to let the ringing in your ears die down.

"So Sam, where are you from?" You asked, shocked your words weren't more slurred. You held yourself together better than you could have hoped for.

He laughed, deep and low, "Is it that obvious I am not from here?" His hand tapped on the table to the beat from inside. Sam tried hard to not look directly at you. It took everything in him to avoid the eye contact he desperately craved.

You watched him, eyes lazily looking him up and down. "You seem really uncomfortable here. Clubs not your scene?" You asked. You leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as you watched Sam practically squirm in his seat.

He cleared his throat, copying your movements in his own way. "I'm more of a quiet read at home kind of guy." He nodded as he spoke, eyes unable to focus only on you. He was nervous, and he didn't know how to admit it. He'd never felt like this. Sure, talking to girls wasn't his specialty, that was Dean, always had been. But for some reason right now his confidence was lacking.

He was drawn to you like he hadn't been drawn to someone before. Sam had his fair share of one night stands. He knew how to pick up women at the bar and bring them home. He'd learned every trick in the book from his brother. But right now? Nothing seemed to be coming to mind. No clever words, no witty things to say to get you laughing.

Hell he couldn't even make eye contact with you. Every time he did his eyes would trail down to your lips, those soft and ready things. To your jaw, where he was itching to lay a few kisses. To your chest, and how inviting it looked in that little dress.

You smiled, watching as he nervously fidgeted in front of you. "So who dragged you out here?" You asked. Your body was still heating up, even though you were out in the cold weather now. Something about Sam, something about this innocent thing he was doing right now even though he was practically a giant was driving you crazy.

"My brother. Seems he's having a rough night and needed some guy time." Sam rolled his eyes, but you didn't notice. Dean often had hard nights. Especially when he spent too much time in one place. And most the time, his drama was with girls, shocker right?

"And here I am prying you away from that. I am so sorry." You were sincere. Your hand finding your bare chest to show him just how much you cared. This only drew Sam's attention to your chest again, he gulped before flicking his eyes back to your face. You knew how important things like that could be. You leaned back in your seat, suddenly so worried about Sam and his brother.

"Don't be. I could use the…" He hesitated, looking around, "Air." He laughed, and you joined in. Out here was only better because you didn't have to yell at one another. The smoke from the countless smokers was almost unbearable though.

"Can we dance?" You asked, standing up and pulling at the hem of your dress.

Sam had forgotten just what the rest of your body looked like, not that it took him long to remember. He nodded, his throat suddenly clogged and unable to form words.

You reached your hand out for him, and he took it with a smile as it was your turn to lead him into the club.

He liked the way your body felt against his own. He wasn't much of a dancer, but with you guiding him he seemed to be pulling it off okay. It helped that his hands were on your hips, or as close as he could get to them.

It wasn't until now that he realized just how small you were next to him. Not that he minded, everyone usually was pretty tiny next to him. He gripped you tight, whirling you around so your chest was pressing into his. He loved this, loved this more than he was willing to admit if anyone asked.

How long had it been since he felt another female pressed up to him like this? How long had he had lonely night alone with himself? This, this felt right though. You weren't just some chick he was picking up. You felt like more. And that was important to Sam.

You could feel the warmth of him through your clothes, could feel the firmness of his chest, and could feel just about everything as Sam pressed your body into his. You couldn't control the sound that escaped your lips, it happened and it floated around the two of you.

Neither of you moved, suddenly both so confused by what was happening. Your face grew red, you were embarrassed at the moan you let out. Sam took advantage of this moment, sure he hesitated, but he hadn't expected it.

Now? Now Sam's lips were pressed into yours. The soft and yet gentleness of them made you crave more. He tasted of whiskey, and for the first time ever you needed more. Your hands searched up his back, fingers finally finding his long locks and giving them a gentle pull.

This time Sam let the moan escape him, it filled your mouth and drove you insane. That noise, nothing you'd ever heard compared to it. This time when Sam kissed you it was harder, his teeth practically bumping into yours as he hungrily searched the inside of your mouth.

."Sam?" You said breathlessly, hating yourself for breaking up the kissing. "Sam, let's get out of here." You pressed your head into his, still feeling the staggered breath of his against you. You wanted to kiss him again, needed to taste him. It wasn't enough, he was like crack and you were a drug addict.

Sam didn't hesitate to agree, "Go tell your friends I'm taking you home. I gotta go tell my brother." He forced himself away from you, forced himself to peel away from you long enough to do what he needed and what you needed.


	3. Bed Rock

The cab ride was awkward. Sam sat on his side of the car and you on yours as you ordered the driver around. The air was thick as you both tried desperately to keep your hands off one another. But eventually you found your hands touching in the middle of the seat. Sam interlocking his fingers with yours. The heat was back, the warmth of his skin against you.

The ride was too long, and you couldn't help but glance over at Sam. He was getting more nervous as the ride went on. Which confused him. He'd picked up women before. Why were you making his palms so sweaty?

He attempted to dry them on his jeans, rubbing his palms up and down his thigh. You noticed this, and couldn't help but watch as he traced along his muscled legs. You sucked in your lower lip, how could something to trivial be turning you on? Something as simple as him running his hands up and down his thighs? Really?

Sam's hand was suddenly on your bare thigh, he gave it a gentle squeeze as he looked down at you. Were you almost to your house? Were they close? Sam was ready to be out of the stuffy and quiet cab, ready to hear more than his own staggered breathing. You were ready too, and thankful that it was only a left turn away until you could be out of here and alone with Sam.

You practically threw your money at the cab driver, giggling and skipping as you made your way to your front door. Sam was always right behind you, large hands running along any part of you he could as you teased him. He was teasing you also, letting his hands wander where they wanted as you attempted to open your door.

"Sam if you keep doing that we are never going to make in inside." You said, and instantly his hands left your sides.

"Sorry. I can't help it." He breathed, suddenly standing so close behind you.

After what seemed like way to long you finally got into your home. Slipping in and discarding your heels right away.

Sam turned into someone new as soon as the door was shut. You barely had time to react to the new version of him. Before you heels had even made contact with the floor Sam had lifted you up; your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you firmly into your front door.

His hands held your thighs, his rugged and used skin against the softness of yours. He trailed them up once he felt safe that you weren't going to fall, making sure to keep your dress at your hips, despite his need to take it off and throw it across the room.

He gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin. You could feel the bruises forming and you didn't care. You welcomed them to remember this by. You didn't stop the noises leaving your mouth, your heavy breathing and graceful moans.

Sam loved them, he hadn't even began kissing you yet and you were already writhing under his touch. His lips pressed against your neck, feeling your pulse against them. Your heart was racing, and sped up as his tongue darted across it.

Your hands were in his hair, gently pulling at its length experimentally. Your hips pressed into his without your commands. You were unaware of what was happening to you at this instant. Your body was reacting to his in a way it never had before.

Sam groaned against your collar bone, "God Y/N, that feels so good." His words were husky, deep and breathy against you. They drove you crazy, you'd never been so turned on to hear a voice before until now.

"Kiss me." You uttered, and Sam suddenly stopped all his movements.

His hands remained on your hips, but now his face was just before yours. He looked at you, eyes half open from drunkenness. "You want me to kiss you?" He asked.

You watched his lips as he spoke; the soft plumpness of them driving you crazy. You sucked in your own lower lip before letting your eyes flick up to his. "I wanna kiss you Sam." You repeated, dragging your finger gently against his jaw line.

Sam breathed in before his lips pressed into yours. It's wasn't like you imagined, because you had previously forgotten what they felt like. His arms raked up your back, hands cupping your head and fingers getting lost in your hair and mashing you into him. This kiss was a mess of teeth knocking and tangled tongues.

He bit down on your lower lip, the one you previously had been sucking on yourself, and welcomed the moan that seeped into his mouth. He was consuming you in every way possible until he pulled away, grasping for air. He pressed his forehead into yours, breath hot and still smelling of whiskey.

You didn't waste time, hands gripping and pulling at his shirts until he understood and helped you release himself from the constraints, still keeping you pinned against the door. But you both needed more. You needed to feel his skin against yours.

"Sam?" You asked hesitantly.

Sam pulled away, looking over your face before he asked if you were okay.

"I'm great. But why don't you follow me?" You asked, trying to not sound as nervous as you were feeling. Sam helped you to the ground, careful not to drop you or not let you go too quickly.

You sauntered in front of him, shaking your hips in front of him. He followed, like a lost hungry little puppy with food in front of him. You knew this, and took advantage of it as soon as you could. You reached behind yourself, gripping your zipper and slowly slipping it down as low as it would go.

You let the dress fall, and stepped out it of with ease as you continued to walk. Now you walked before Sam with nothing but a bra and panties on. Sam wanted to scream at the sight, scream because he needed to see this from the front, not that he didn't mind the view from the back.

You led him to your bedroom, flipping on a small little light in the corner just so you could see the beautiful creation before you. Sam had discarded his pants, joining you in just the bare essentials. "You like what you see?" You asked, noticing that Sam's eyes were slowly looking you up and down.

Sam stood on the other side of your bed, hands limply at his side. The low lighting illuminated just what you needed to see, outlining everything that you could imagine. "I love what I see. Come here Y/N."

You crawled over the bed, until you reached him, looking up at him as your face barely touched him. Sam inhaled at the sight, and couldn't help but pull you into his arms and pin you into the bed. He was heavy against you, pressing your firmly and allowing you to feel every muscle that he had. Your hands wandered, memorizing this prefect body on top of you.

Sam was more than you could ask for. This whole situation was more than you could ask for right now. The alcohol in your system was just enough to make you not give two shits about what was going on. You wanted this, you needed this. Sam was on top of you, kissing you and giving you every ounce of his attention. Your body had never felt this way, never had Dean done anything even close to this before.

So you escaped, letting Sam boss you around until you both met with your release.

Dean was drunk, he knew this. And yet for some stupid reason he was here, at your door step. He'd tried all night to forget about what happened. He'd never seen that side of you, never seen such fire in your eyes. So he stood here, without knowing what was going to happen when he knocked on that door.

Would this be the last time? Was this how it was going to end? He had to admit it wasn't how he was picturing it. He thought it would be bloody, his blood. Not this, not you not speaking to him because he was with other women.

He knew it wasn't okay. He couldn't imagine the pain you were going through right now. Every time he tried to imagine you with someone else he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to see you with anyone else.

Dean took a step, one step closer to your door. He'd never felt like this before. Never cared so much about anything, never felt so scared to see how you would react. Because for the first time since he'd met you, he was positive you wouldn't be running into his arms after he knocked.

"Come on Dean. It's just Y/N." Dean took the final steps, cleared the gap between himself and your front door. He raised a hand, letting it linger before he could finally bring himself to *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* on your front door.

You heard it, but you tried so very hard to ignore it. Your heart doing its familiar leap of excitement at the idea that Dean Freakin Winchester was on the other side. The harsh reminder of why you shouldn't be excited flooded over you, Dean cheated.

Not only had Dean cheated, but now you were in bed with your own stranger. *KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* happened again, this time louder.

You cursed as you slipped out of bed. Carefully making your way around your room in the dark. Sam lay asleep, not yet feeling the lack of warmth from your missing body.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK* "Y/N! Please!" Dean yelled as he knocked on the door for the third time. He told himself if you didn't come down this time you weren't here, or you didn't want to see him. Both were real possibilities. He'd asked your friend, the annoying one that ripped you away from him before he could talk to you where you were. And when she shrugged Dean's heart dropped.

Weren't girls supposed to take better care of one another in a club like that? Weren't they supposed to make sure they were all safe? And now no one knew where you were? Dean didn't like to admit that his heart raced at the ideas of what could happen. Broader than just some stranger taking you home while you were drunk and having his way with you. Dean's world opened so many more possibilities.

"Please Y/N," Dean begged, his forehead resting against your door, waiting for you to let him in. He sighed, glancing at the door before he started to turn around and leave.

"Dean?" You asked, your voice small. Dean had almost not heard it against the gust of wind that came right at that moment. "Why did you come here?"

Dean ran, or wobbled rather, towards you, arms out stretched to wrap you in a hug. His heart broke as you flinched away again, as you didn't open your arms and welcome him. "I couldn't leave things like they were."

Dean didn't like this gap of air between you. He wanted to be touching you, needed to feel your skin against his own. Even if it was just his hand against yours.

You took a deep breath, closed your eyes and waited a second. "Dean, you slept with other people." Again your words were small, quiet, and barely audible. You weren't even sure you had said it aloud. This was harder than you thought.

Dean sighed, "I know, and I should have talked to you about it." He tried to take another step forward, tried to just feel the warmth of you even if it wasn't actually touching you.

You exhaled louder than you wanted, "Talked to me about it? Talk to me about what? Sleeping with other people?" You didn't mean to, but you were yelling, louder than you wanted. You sighed, "Dean I can't talk to you about that." You couldn't look at Dean anymore, couldn't look into his eyes and say the words that came out of your mouth. "I loved you. Only you. It was only you."

"Was?" Dean was hurt, you using past tense when describing. He took a step back, and you took notice.

"Yeah. Was." You shook your head. "You were the only one, my first Dean." Your face was growing red, you could feel the warmth of it against the cold night air.

Dean sighed, "Y/N." He remembered the first time he'd even kissed you, so playing back your first time it seemed to suddenly made since. How scared you were, how nervous you had been. And there was Dean, confident, like always.

He took another step back, this time not because he was hurt, but because he was taken back by this. He was your one and only. The only person who you had ever been with.

"No." You raised your finger, come outside as you lowered your voice. You were aware that Sam was still upstairs, and you hoped that he wasn't awake. "Don't come here and think that you can just bat your eyes at me at make everything okay. It doesn't work like that Dean." Your finger met with Dean's chest, your words coming out harsher than before.

And when his eyes left you for the first time since you had said his name, your heart raced. You turned around quickly, seeing a disgruntled but fully dressed Sam standing in the door way. "Dean, is everything okay?" Sam asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"What are you doing here Sam?" Dean asked between clenched teeth.

Sam seemed confused, looking around the room as if something were coming after him. Because that was the only reason Dean would be here. At least that's what they were thinking. You were so confused you didn't know what to do.

"Wait, you know each other?" You asked. Looking back and forth between one another. "Dean?" You asked, "Sam?"

Dean puffed out his chest, suddenly ignoring the liquor inside him. "Sam, what are you doing here?" Dean's voice was different. It wasn't soft like it usually was when he was talking to you. He entered your home without your invitation. "I thought you were leaving with someone."

"Yeah. I uh-" Sam struggled to come up with words, because he could see the confused look on your face, the anger on Dean's and didn't know what to do in this situation. "So you know Y/N?"

You shut the door quietly, trying to sneak past the two men in your living room. "So how do you two know one another?" You asked, sitting down on your couch and curling yourself into the smallest ball you could.

Both Sam and Dean towered over you, Dean obviously angrier than Sam. "This is my brother." Sam said, scratching at the back of his neck.

"The one- with- the- yeah. Okay." You said, suddenly putting two and two together. It made a lot more sense now, but you felt so embarrassed and you didn't know what to do. You buried your face in your knee's groaning at the frustration.

This was all too much. Sam and Dean in the same room? How were you supposed to know they were brothers? They looked nothing a like! And it wasn't like you had ever met Sammy. Sure, you'd hear countless stories about him, it was like you knew him, but you'd never had a face to match the stories.

"Look I had no idea this was your brother Dean, and he obviously had no idea who I was. So you can't be too angry at any of us." You said, peaking over your knees at both brothers. They both towered over you.

Dean had his chest puffed out still, but one look down at you had him sitting down and his shoulders a little more relaxed. "Y/N, I'm not angry at you." He attempted to reach out for you, his hands just wanting to put you at ease.

He could see the hurt on your face, the hurt he had placed there. "Listen Dean, I had no idea. If I had, I wouldn't have…" You started, but was quickly cut off.

"I know." Dean was frustrated. His one thing was no longer just his. But he couldn't blame anyone but himself, and he knew that.

You sighed, "You don't get to be mad Dean. You don't get to come here and act like you have control. I met with Sam last night and that's that."

"You guys… Ya know… Didn't you?" Dean asked both of you, but for this question his eyes were on his brother. You could feel the heat, the anger of them as he looked at his younger brother.

Sam didn't want to answer, or rather, he didn't know how to answer. Last night was perfect, it was everything he needed and everything he could ever want with someone. It didn't even matter that you had been with Dean to him, he still wanted more.

"Sam?" Dean stood, his voice deeper, angrier.

"I don't have to answer that. She doesn't either." Sam blurted out.

"So you did. You guys- Son of a bitch" Dean took a step back, pacing behind his seat as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Why are you so upset? You take girls to the hotel all the time." Sam was growing angry now. He wasn't sure why this was such a big deal. Mainly because he didn't understand who you were and what your relationship with Dean was. "Why is me, who never does, so bad? Because it was with Y/N?"

"YES!" Dean shouted. His fingers dug into the back of the chair, practically ripping through the fabric as he tried to control his anger. He knew he wasn't doing so well, but he didn't care. He saw you flinch but right now he didn't care.

"Dean, how was I supposed to know who she was? When I met her I had no idea." Sam said, he crossed his arms over his chest, this wasn't how he expected to wake up. His head still pounding from the drinking from the night before. His body was sore, for many reasons that he could never say aloud.

"Guys, I'm still here. And I don't belong to anyone. I can sleep with whoever I want to. And last night. I wanted to sleep with Sam." You spoke up, leaning forward in your seat. You felt tiny, felt like you could easily be forgotten in this moment as you sat down. But even if you stood, even if you tried to make yourself bigger it wouldn't matter. This was a battle of Sam and Dean.

"Don't- Don't say that." Dean shook his head and started pacing again.

"I slept with Sam. It happened Dean. Live with it." Your words were bitter. And stung Dean to the core.

He didn't stay around. You heard him make his way to your kitchen, heard the slam of your refrigerator door and the clank of him throwing away the bottle cap to a beer. You sighed, and glanced over at Sam. Sam shook his head, waiting for Dean to return to the room. Dean opened another, pounding back the first, before he joined the two of you again.

You all sat in silence, Dean slowly sipping on his drink as you all struggled to come up with anything to say. "Dean," You started, but Dean raised a finger at you which quickly made you press your lips together.

"I came here to fix things. I came here because I was going to admit I was in the wrong. That I fucked up." Dean was calm now, so calm that it scared you. He took another drink, this one much larger than any before.

"And now?" You asked, your voice cracking.

"Now I don't want to apologize."

Sam scoffed, but kept his thoughts to himself. It was hard for him to imagine Dean fixing anything but his car let alone a relationship. Dean was the king of running away once things got too much. Sam could list the names if he needed to prove his point, but he didn't. He kept his mouth shut and waited.

"Get out." You ripped the beer from Dean's hand, not even caring that it splashed out and on to your floor. "Get out of my home Dean, and don't- don't you dare come back."

Dean didn't move. He watched you, scared at this new version of you. it was worse than the one from outside, and that scared him to the core. "Get out! You don't get to come in here and disrupt everything. You don't get to drink my beer and tell me you won't apologize for what you did to me. You don't get to sit there, in my chair after breaking my heart and cheating on me like you did. Get out."

Dean left without a word, his steps were slow, and slower still as he shut your door behind him. His boots hit the sidewalk under him and for the last time, Dean walked away from your door. But it was the first time that when he looked back you weren't there watching him.

Sam cleared his throat. "I am really sorry for all of this. I had no idea-"

"Don't. you didn't know." You waved it all off.

Sam stood, knees creaking as he did. "I'm going to go though. I think I need to work things out with Dean."

You nodded, understanding completely. They were brothers, they worked together, and they traveled everywhere together. They couldn't be fighting over some silly girl like this. You sighed, "How many girls has it been Sam?" This was the first time you looked at him since Dean had come here. You were reminded why, Sam was perfect, even with his ruffled hair, his shirt buttoned wrong and his jeans loosely clinging to his hips.

"I don't want to answer that." Sam said, and you knew that he was sparing you. "Thank you for last night." Sam said, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

Last night. You laughed. It seemed like so long ago that Sam was pressing you into doors and beds. It seemed like so long ago that you were drunk and not thinking about all this.

Sam left without saying anything else, he quickly found Dean leaning against his car. "Dean." Sam started.

Dean quickly walked up to his brother, and with all his anger, all the force he could, he punched Sam in the face and walked away.

It took days for the brothers to talk to one another again. And even then it was short words from Dean.

Meanwhile your world had been turned upside down. Dean Winchester was no longer a part of your life. Sam Winchester was just a pit stop, and now you had no idea what to do. Y/F had been there for it all. Helping you with anything and everything she could. But Dean had been so important to you, he was still so important to you. Him being gone was like having a part of you missing. 20 something years of a relationship, gone.

Two months later Dean sent you a text.

Another month later you finally replied.

A week later Dean was at your door step.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*


End file.
